


Lean on me

by Amfelia



Category: SKAM (Norway)
Genre: 3+1, Canon Related, M/M, Reverse Big Bang Challenge
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-06
Updated: 2018-08-06
Packaged: 2019-06-22 20:11:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,427
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15589794
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Amfelia/pseuds/Amfelia
Summary: It’s all Magnus’ fault, really. The idiot came back to school too soon after he got it from his baby brother. Isak had told him, no, ordered him, not to come back to school until he had been feeling better for at least 48 hours, since that thing is contagious as shit, literally. But noooo, Magnus just had to come back sooner, and here Isak is, in bed, his intestines screaming bloody murder and he has lost count of how many times he’s thrown up. The worst!A 3+1 story about learning to balance being independent and leaning on others, because sometimes asking for help is harder than it should be.





	Lean on me

**Author's Note:**

> I want to send a huge thank you to Martha (@meonlymine), who created the lovely art that inspired this story. You can find her [here](https://meonlymine.tumblr.com).
> 
> Also a big thank you to the wonderful [Imminentinertia ](https://archiveofourown.org/users/imminentinertia/pseuds/imminentinertia/works) who not only volunteered to beta this but also threatened to kick my butt if I didn’t post it, which I at one point considered. I would also like to thank my fellow Skandi-writers who helped me brainstorm my idea. 
> 
> This one was a labour of love, and I’ve struggled a quite a bit writing it. Partly because I’ve gotten so used to writing in Norwegian and switching to English was more difficult than expected, but also since parts of the story got a bit too personal at one point.

  
  


#### 

1

The thing about moving out at sixteen is you rather quickly learn to be independent, to stand on your own two feet, making your own decisions, leaning on no one other than yourself. It seemed so easy at first, probably from the euphoria of finally being out of his mother's house, finally being able to have some peace and quiet. And it isn’t like he hadn’t been doing these things before he moved out, doing laundry, cooking, cleaning, making sure there was food in the fridge and dinner on the table.

But it doesn’t take long before the seriousness of it all hits him. He is totally, completely on his own. He is the only one responsible, he doesn’t have his unstable mother or his unreliable father to lean on even if he wants to.

It’s not like he doesn’t have support from the people he lives with, especially Eskild, but in the end, they are no more than a roommates, they can give advice and from time to time, share their thoughts or food, but they are no parent. At best he is like that obnoxious big brother. 

The boys all think it is all just fun and games and are envious of the freedom, can’t get over how wonderful it must be to decide for himself, stay out all night if he wants to, no parents nagging about cleaning his room or doing his homework. They just don’t understand how overwhelming it feels at times, all the responsibilities, all the work, all the loneliness.

It took him a few months to get the hang of budgeting his money, making sure there was enough money for food and rent, and then another few months to get the boys to accept if they spent all their money on weed, beer and McDonald’s there would be no other consequences than no more money for weed, beer and McDonald’s for the rest of the month. For him it meant an angry Eskild because he couldn’t make rent, no food for a few weeks and an embarrassing call to his father to beg for more money. He made that mistake more than once before he learned to install a bank app on his phone and check his account balance regularly.

And then he met Even. Even with the bluest eyes on the planet, with his kind smile, nicest lips and in many ways the complete opposite to Isak. Even with his bipolar that almost scared him away, and boy would that have been the biggest mistake in his life. But all the shit that happened only made them grow closer, forcing them to talk about what this meant and how Isak could possibly take care of Even if he had another episode. It took time to convince Even that he was all in, that it was ok for Even to lean on him, that Isak loves the prospect of being able to care for him. 

After he met Even for the first time he sees all the upsides to having your own place. No parents there to deny him having Even over as much as he wants, spending night after night together. It is so nice having someone there, someone to cook with and for, someone to talk about school and stupid friends, and not to mention someone to make you breakfast when you are too tired or too hungover to do it yourself. 

And this part of independence is a good thing. Like really good. He almost feels grown up, although he is still in high school. Only seventeen years old, but he is a seventeen-year-old with a boyfriend, living on his own (with roommates) and if everything goes the way he wants to, living together with said boyfriend in just a few months. They have been talking about for a little while now, the shared apartment he lives in is crowded, and Noora could use her own room and it is the most sensible thing, him and Even moving in together, they just need to find a place they can afford.

But the one thing that annoys him the most about this whole independent thing is when he is sick. Which he is now, and he hates it. He hates it almost as much as he hates the illness itself. And that is saying a lot, because Isak detests having the stomach flu, it is the absolute worst.

The worst part about it though is he knew he would get it, he just knew. And could do nothing about it. It’s all Magnus’ fault, really. The idiot came back to school too soon after he got it from his baby brother. Isak had told him, no, ordered him, not to come back to school until he had been feeling better for at least 48 hours, since that thing is contagious as shit, literally. But noooo, Magnus just had to come back sooner, and here Isak is, in bed, his intestines screaming bloody murder and he has lost count of how many times he’s thrown up. The worst!

He has told Even not to come over, he will survive this alone. There is no need for Even to risk getting sick as well, he wouldn’t wish this on his worst enemy, no way his wonderful, sexy and kind boyfriend needs this.

He has been going at it since yesterday morning, and he has hardly eaten anything for the last 24 hours, only managed to force down some energy drink Eskild left in his room before he evacuated the building, saying he refused to come home until this abomination of a virus had left and stayed gone for a while. Linn and Noora followed suit shortly after, and he can’t blame them, but it sucks being alone in the apartment. The lack of food and drink makes him feel dizzy and weak, and he hasn’t left the bed for the last two hours, and right now he wonders if he’ll ever get the energy to get out of bed. But at least he hasn’t thrown up the last three hours, and he has a sliver of hope it might be over for now. If only he could get out of bed to find something to drink. Food is out of the question, but a glass of water would be nice.

He is this close to giving up and calling Eskild to come and rescue him, or maybe Noora. Noora is nice. He would call Magnus, since this is all his fault, but Magnus doesn’t have a key and then Isak would have to get out of bed to let him in and nope, not happening.

Suddenly he hears the sound of a key and then the front door opens, and he is so happy he could cry, Eskild has come to rescue him. But when the door to his room opens it isn’t Eskild. It’s Even. He is carrying a big plastic bag in his left hand and holding on to the door frame with the other, seemingly unsure whether it is safe to enter. Isak can barely lift his head, sometime during the last 24 hours it seems his head has tripled its weight, and he gives up before he even tries.

“What are you doing here?” His voice is barely audible, his vocal chords out of practice. “I thought I told you not to come. It is bad enough that I caught this stupid bug, no need to spread it further.”

Even slowly enters the room, seemingly taking in the scene. Isak can vividly picture the sight, his room was a bit of a mess before he got sick, and now it probably looks like a tornado just passed through. Including the bucket Eskild had placed by his bed, just in case he couldn’t make it to the bathroom in time. Thank god it is empty, otherwise this would be just too much, too embarrassing, something he isn’t sure he would ever live down.

“How are you feeling?”

“Better, I think,” he half mumbles, half says. 

Even looks concerned, that much he can tell from the frown on his face. “Have you been able to eat or drink anything?”

“No, I’ll just throw it up again, gave up last night. Have slept a bit, that helped.”

“You need to drink something, it is important that you stay hydrated. Just, wait two seconds, I’ll be back in a little bit.”

Isak watches Even leave, taking the plastic bag with him, Isak can see it is from the local pharmacy.

Even returns a few minutes later, bag still in hand and a glass of water in his hand. “You need to sit up, can you do that for me, baby?”

Isak shakes his head, there is no way he can find the energy to sit up. “Look, I’ll help you, OK? You need to sit up if you are going to be able to drink.”

He has never felt this helpless before, it feels like his body has been replaced with a sack of potatoes as Even helps him sit halfway up, and rearranges the pillows in is bed, making it easier to stay up.

“Here,” Even says, holding up a spoon with water.

“A spoon, Even? Really? I am not a child, I can drink from a glass perfectly fine.”

“But the lady at the pharmacy told me that you shouldn’t drink too much at a time, if you do you’ll just throw it all up again. And we don’t want that, do we?”

Isak grumbles, but agrees, and takes the spoon, no way he is going to allow himself to be fed. There is a limit, and they just reached it.

He almost spits out again, because this is not water. It tastes weird, sweet and salty simultaneously. Not bad, but definitely not good either. “What the fuck, Even, what is this shit?”

“It is called GEM. It’s supposed to be good for you, to replace the electrolytes and energy you’ve lost. The lady at the pharmacy told me it was the best thing for you. Is it that bad?” Even takes a sip of the mixture, makes a face and leaves the room. When he gets back he is carrying some of Nooras fruit juice to mix with it. Isak hopes it is enough to lessen the foul taste.

“How are you feeling? Do you have any fever or anything?” Even puts his hand on Isak’s head and Isak feels more than sees the answer, that yes indeed, he has a fever. Even pulls a box out of the bag and motions for Isak to open up his mouth.

“I got you the pain killers that disintegrate in your mouth, since you can’t drink enough to swallow the regular ones”, he says while putting a couple of pills on Isak’s tongue.

“Banana flavor? Really?” It comes out sounding weird, because the pills are still on the tip of his tongue, not melted yet. “Isn’t this meant for kids?”

“The only disintegrating kind they had,” Even says with a smile on his face and in his voice. 

Isak decides against complaining, Even is right about this being the best option anyway, even though the banana flavor is one of the worst he’s tasted. It is a close second to the electrolyte-concoction earlier.

During the next couple of hours Even keeps feeding Isak the mixture, one tablespoon at a time. Slowly, but surely, the pain killers and the fluids are doing their job, and he is starting to feel almost human again and actually a bit hungry. Apparently, his stomach agrees and goes on to make the loudest sound possible, growling like a hungry bear, causing Even to laugh out loud.

“Why don’t you go and take a quick shower and I’ll fix you something to eat?”

He suspects a shower might be pushing his limits a bit too far, but on the other side it is just too tempting not to at least try, and he stumbles on shaky legs towards the bathroom, opting for the quickest shower in history, leaning against the wall the entire time. When he re-enters the bedroom, he is greeted by a much cleaner room. The bucket beside the bed is gone, the bed has clean sheets and his laundry is nowhere to be seen, and he is so close to crying it is embarrassing. Even enters the room a couple of minutes later, carrying a plate of food and a bottle of coke.

“I made you some toast, figured it would be the safest thing to eat,” he says handing over the plate.

“What is this? Sugar?” Isak eyes the toast suspiciously, he has never seen sugar on toast before.

“It’s what my mom always gave me whenever I was sick, she says it is the best thing to eat when your appetite is shit.”

And she is right, it tastes better than anything he could have imagined right now, and he wolfs down both slices in a hurry, so thankful for the nausea being gone.

Even pulls up his laptop and joins Isak in the bed, and they stay like that for the rest of the day, watching movies and just relaxing. Even cuddles close to him, totally ignoring the fact that Isak is most definitely still contagious. 

In the middle of the second movie he pauses it and pulls Isak closer. “Babe, you know you are allowed to ask for help, right? You don’t have to do everything by yourself, even if you can.” Even looks at him with the softest smile, and with something close to worry in his eyes. “People need people, even you. And I will always be here for you.”

“I know. I just didn’t want you to get sick as well, and I thought I could handle it myself. It was just a stomach bug, nothing I haven’t handled before.” The guilt in his stomach for making Even come over and help him is still there, although not as big anymore.

He is almost back to his normal self by the time Even leaves to go home to his parents, claiming Isak needs the bed to himself to get the best possible sleep ever. Isak quietly suspects it is because he doesn’t want to increase the risk getting the bug, and who would blame him if it was.

Two days later Even gets sick, because of course he does. And this time it is Isak’s turn to take care of him, feed him tablespoon sized portions of GEM (“because otherwise you’ll just throw it up again, Even”), wipe his face with a soft cloth when he gets to warm and sweaty and make toast with butter and sugar when Even gets well enough to even consider eating anything. And he thinks if they can survive this, they can get through almost anything. Because he hates the stomach flu, with all his heart and all his soul. 

Before they go to sleep that night, Even whispers softly in his ear. “Baby, when we agreed that your shit is my shit too and the other way around, I didn’t think you meant it literally.”

 

#### 

2

Sometimes it’s easier for Isak to pretend he’s asleep, to avoid all the questions that he knows he’ll get if he tells Even about it. He knows this strategy is not the wisest, it can probably compare to what he did as a child, hiding under his duvet in his bed, so sure his parents wouldn’t find him. If he can’t see it, it can’t see him. Whatever this _it_ is. 

This time it started a few days back, or if he’s honest it started last week when he got the first of many texts from his mother. Or maybe even the day before that, when their physics teacher announced he had pushed up the deadline for handing in all the lab reports for the entire year. It doesn’t help that his father has been on his case for them to meet up, to “do something together soon” as he had put it in one of the countless text messages. He has no interest in meeting his father, that thing is so far down on his to do list that he is sure it would be on page three if he was actually making one.

Right now it is like all his problems are tangled up in a big mess and he can’t seem to untangle them. It’s reminding him of that time their neighbor’s cat discovered his mother’s knitting basket and had a field day with all the different balls of yarn. When they discovered what had happened what was originally a half done sweater for Isak looked like a rainbow colored chaos. His mother had been hysterical, screaming and crying and promising to kill that poor cat next time she saw it. Isak has spent the entire evening trying to separate the different threads of yarn, successfully so. Funny thing is he can’t for the life of him remember ever wearing said sweater, if he’s to make a guess his mother never finished it, it is probably still somewhere in the house as unfinished as it was when the cat found it. All his mother’s projects usually ended up like that. 

This is what he is thinking of now as he’s lying there, unable to sleep, and the insomnia is starting to get to him. It is not the first time this has happened, as a matter of fact it has been much, much worse than this before. Like the time when his dad had just moved out and he was left alone to take care his mother, a situation not even close to fitting for a sixteen year old. In the beginning not sleeping was a coping mechanism, making sure nothing happened during the night when his mother couldn’t sleep and would make a mess in the kitchen or deciding to tear down the wall in the hall, because she was so sure someone (his dad, he suspected) had installed surveillance equipment. 

The next time he struggled with sleep was after he had met Even and everything was a giant mess, he was struggling with still being in the closet and feeling like he had no one to confide in. It wasn’t until he’d come out to Jonas and sorted things out with Even sleeping became easier, but by then it had lasted for more than a month. He deeply hopes it won’t last as long this time, at least he has Even now, making sure he’s never alone at night even though he tends to snore a bit when he sleeps. 

It’s the fifth night in a row where the night has gotten older and older on him. Last night he thinks he fell asleep around three, the clock on his phone had screamed 0256 at him last time he dared to check. He had gotten through the day with the help of massive amounts of coffee and Redbull. He had for a moment considered pouring Redbull into his coffee, but had concluded it would probably just ruin both drinks, but maybe then he wouldn’t have fallen asleep during biology class only to be woken up by Sana, poking her finger at him. 

“Tell Even to let you sleep at night, you’ve been together long enough to not spend the entire night doing things I don’t even want to think about.” Her voice is strong, but her eyes holds a hint of concern. He is probably not the only one that remembers how bad his sleeping was last fall. 

And he wishes she was right. Oh, how he wishes that was the case. But it isn't. They haven’t done anything like that for almost a week, his body and his mind are not at all aligned in that sense. Because it is not like he doesn’t want to, he does. He really, really does. But by nighttime his body is too tired, too exhausted to respond, and Even stopped trying after the third night. That’s another thing that keeps him up at night, outside of Even’s episodes this is the longest they have gone without. 

He checks the time again, and it is almost four in the morning. Which means even if he managed to fall asleep anytime soon he’ll get three hours max. Three just isn’t enough. Six would suffice, or at least five. But not three. Three hours is almost as bad as not sleeping at all. 

At this point he has tried everything. Breathing exercises, counting downward from a hundred while forcing his muscles to relax one by one, counting sheep, thinking about silly things, making up stupid stories and he even tried a tip he found on some stupid website, to think of words starting with the letter A, one word per breath. But nothing helps. Every time he starts to relax his minds starts going a hundred miles a minute, in fifteen different directions at once.

Counting sheep was a particularly big fuck up, none of the sheep wanted to behave and it ended up with a big imaginary pile of wool when one of them failed to jump the fence and the rest of them just kept running, crashing into each other. It took him a good ten minutes to get that image off his mind. 

He has tried every sleeping position possible, on his left side, on his right side, on his stomach, with the duvet on and with the duvet off. Right now he is lying on his back, staring up at the ceiling, or what would be the ceiling if he could only see it, but the room is pitch black, thanks to Even’s new purchase, blinds. He meant well, hoping blocking the lights from the street would help them fall asleep easier, but it only means that now Isak can’t even go out of bed without turning on the lights, and he won’t do that because that would disturb his boyfriend. A boyfriend who needs all the sleep he can get. 

“Isak?” he hears, his breath hitches, but he doesn’t reply, still pretending he is asleep. 

“Isak, I know you’re awake.” So OK, Even is not talking in his sleep, he is actually awake, even though he was snoring less than five minutes ago. “Having trouble sleeping?”

“Yeah,” he whispers. “I don’t know why, I just can’t seem to calm down enough to fall asleep. But don’t worry, I’m sure it will pass soon.” He tries to downplay it, he needs for Even not to worry, for Even to sleep. 

“Why can’t you sleep, though? Is it about your mom?” Even asks, turning on the bedside lamp, not giving up on this line of questioning. 

Isak shakes his head, it’s not really. Or not entirely, she is probably just one small piece of a complex puzzle. 

“I don’t know,” he says, protecting his eyes from the light by holding his arm over his face. “I can’t seem to be able to sleep lately.”

“I know, I’ve noticed.”

“Yeah, sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you.”

“You didn’t. I was already awake. But I didn’t mean I noticed now. I know you haven’t slept the last week. I was waiting for you to tell me, but you haven’t.”

“I didn’t want to worry you, this is my shit do deal with, not yours.”

“Isak,” Even says, and Isak can feel the disappointment lacing his voice. “When are you going to get it through your smart, thick head, your shit is my shit too. We are in this together.”

And all Isak can do is breathe, but it is hard, because with every breath the tears of exhaustion are threatening to spill. And that would be too much. Big boys don’t cry, even in the wee hours of the morning when it is too dark for anyone to see it.

“Isak?” Even whispers, and Isak realizes he’s been crying for a few minutes, instead of answering Even’s question. Apparently, big boys do cry. “Isak, please. I need you to talk to me. Just say something.”

“I just can’t sleep, Even. And every time I close my eyes, my mind starts racing in every direction possible.” He can’t stop the crying, it’s impossible to stop it once it started. Even squeezes his hand tighter, but it doesn’t make it stop. “I can’t sleep and I’m so tired. I didn’t mean to wake you. I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry.” Even pulls him closer, pressing his chest to Isak’s back, making himself a human shield, making Isak feel protected like never before. Slowly, he moves his fingers up and starts caressing Isak’s hair, playing with the curls, carefully scratching his scalp, hesitant, as not to overwhelm him. “Don’t be sorry. You have nothing to be sorry for.”

“I hate not being able to sleep, Even.” He’s sobbing now, and he’s very aware that he’s sobbing, but it’s impossible to stop. Even pulls him even closer. But it doesn’t stop the tears from falling. “I just want to sleep.”

“Shhhh, baby. We can talk more about it tomorrow. For now, let’s just lie here. Let me be here for you, let me help you relax, OK?.”

And slowly he can feel his body relax, mirroring his own breath to Even’s, calming down his racing heart. And he falls asleep to the sound of Even singing to him with his voice as soft as a whisper. 

“If I lay here  
If I just lay here  
Would you lie with me and just forget the world?”

They do talk the next day. Even helps him untangle the giant mess of problems, thread by thread. Helping him find solutions to the problems that he can fix. Like the physics reports, where he sends an email to his teacher, explaining the situation and asking for an extension. And changing the settings on his phone so that the messages from his parents don’t show up on his lock screen and thus postponing having to deal with them until he gets home from school and can read them together with Even. 

 

#### 

3

It is June and school is finally finished, exams are all done and Isak until yesterday Isak was looking forward to an entire summer of fun, relaxing with Even, hanging with his friends and sleeping as long as he likes. Even still works at KB and has decided to pick of some extra shifts, they are hoping to save enough money to go on a short vacation in August, and some extra money will be nice. Isak knows he should have looked for a job too, he is over 18 now and finding a job is easier than last year, not that he tried then either. But they had decided they could do without the money and that he should enjoy this last summer of freedom, next year will be different anyway.

But that was then. Now his dad has suddenly decided he will no longer support him financially, Isak being eighteen and all, and supposedly an adult. At first, he had thought his dad was just late transferring the money, he usually got it the 20th every month. But when three days had passed and still no money and it was getting uncomfortable close to rent being due, he had no choice than to call his dad and inquire about the money. Good thing Even wasn’t home when he made the call, because afterwards he was so angry he almost broke his phone when he hurled it towards the bed, missing by at least two feet. No money means having no way of paying rent. There is no way Even can cover the rent all by himself, and it is not fair to put that on him. It is not Evens fault Isak’s dad is a jerk.

So, he needs to find a job and he needs to do so as soon as humanly possible. The summer of leisure that he had planned is all gone now, not only does he need to work to cover rent and everything else for the summer, he needs to save up to get through the school year, the stipend he gets is not even close to cover his expenses. But he has never looked for a job before and he has no idea where to look, and it is not like he is qualified for anything. And all the summer jobs are probably already taken this close to July.

When Even comes home he is still sitting on the bed, staring at the wall, and he hardly recognizes Even, too lost in his own thoughts.

As a matter of fact, he doesn’t notice Even until he senses the familiar scent of Even, noticing the bed shift from the weight of Even moving closer. All he wants to do is cuddle up next to his boyfriend, but instead he retreats further away, knowing the bubble would burst if he allows himself Evens touch, secrets will spill out like from a broken water balloon.

“Baby, what’s wrong?”

And he hates it when Even looks at him with those eyes, it is like he can see right through him, as if all his defenses are made of see through paper, when he knows or at least hopes it is not.

“Nothing,” he says, barely manages to whisper. There is no way he can tell Even this, not yet, not until he has found a solution. It is too embarrassing, both the fact that he is forced to rely on Even to pay rent and that his dad once again has acted like Isak doesn’t matter, that he doesn’t care, like Isak is just a nobody. “Just, tired, you know.”

“Of doing nothing?” Even doesn’t even try to hide his amusement, but it is better than reality, better than telling Even the truth, better than admitting he’s a failure. So, he goes with it, plays along.

“You know, Netflix can absolutely take a toll on you. And then I had to go out and get ice cream. Do you know how far away the grocery store is?”

And just like that, the tension is gone, and he can go back to pretending everything is fine, just as long he doesn’t check his bank account, unnervingly empty. And Even doesn’t push, like he somehow knows Isak isn’t ready to talk about it, like he knows if he only gives it time Isak will come to him.

The next day he starts the day by scrolling through the classified ads, but as he feared there aren’t that many options. Instead, he starts by making a list of his qualifications, trying to figure out where he could possibly be able to get a job. He opens different discussion boards online, searching for tips on how to get a temporary job, he even tries Jodel, where he surprisingly finds the best tip, or at least a doable one. “Go to all the stores you think you would like to work,” it says. “Ask them if they have any openings and if they don’t, ask if you can leave your resume.” He proceeds to google how to make a resume, only to realize he has nothing to put in it, other than his name, his phone number and email address. But he does, nonetheless, he creates a resume stating his interest and sort of qualifications, only to remember they don’t have a printer. So, he googles how to print when not having a printer.

It takes him two and a half days to find a job, the longest two and a half days of his life. The first morning, right after Even has left for work he sits down with google maps and makes a list of possible places to go. He puts them into three categories, rated by what he thinks his chances are. The third category is reserved for places where he would have to take the subway to reach, thinking he’ll approach those last. By the first day he has probably visited more than forty places, doesn’t stop until just before Even is supposed to come home, making sure he has dinner ready for Even, trying to pretend not to be exhausted from all the walking and all the rejections. He is not fooling anyone, and he is absolutely certain that Even notices something is wrong. But he doesn’t ask, and Isak is putting that on the plus side of today, the only thing there. 

By the end of day two he is this close to giving up, having crossed of most of the stores in both category one and two on his list. Most of the time he is just met with “we’re sorrys” and they don’t even accept his flimsy excuse of a resume. A few places they accepted his resume and told him they’ll be in touch if something comes up.

The next morning his feet are hurting from all the walking, and he contemplates just throwing in the towel, but in the end, he gets up, puts on his nice clothes and a brave smile and tries again. He hits gold on the sixteenth attempt of the day, in one of the larger bookstores downtown. It must be his lucky day, because the first person he talks to happens to be the manager, and even before he has finished his now well-rehearsed speech about looking for a job she counters with how soon he can start. The confusion on his face must have said it all, because she just starts to laugh. “You weren’t expecting a yes, were you?”

He shakes his head. “No, I honestly wasn’t. I have been at it for almost three days now, most of the stores won’t even accept my resume, I guess I am a bit late trying to get a summer job.”

“Well, I have to ask,” she says, but there is no malice in her voice, only a hint of something that resembles kindness. “Why are you? Late, I mean?”

He actually doesn’t intend to be honest and tell her the truth, but he is so, so tired, all the walking, all the rejections, everything the last few days has taken its toll on him. “My dad suddenly decided he won’t support me anymore now that I have turned 18. He tells me I’m an adult now, and need to pay for myself, even though I am still in high school. And he chose to wait until two days after my 18th birthday to tell me. So, I need a job to not only pay rent and food this summer, I need to save up for next year.” The tears are threatening to spill, but by sheer force of determination he manages to hold back, there is only a slight tremor in his voice. He mentally pats himself on the back. 

She looks at him with what he thinks is confusion in her eyes. “You don’t live with your parents?” she asks, and checks his resume again. “You have one year left at Nissen, right?”

“Yes, starting third year after summer. But I moved out when I was sixteen, long, boring story, but things made it impossible for me to stay with my mum after my dad left us.” He doesn’t want to elaborate, it would definitely open the floodgate, making the tears fall down like a waterfall. 

She doesn’t respond to that but looks down at his resume again. “So, Isak, do you have any qualifications to work in a bookstore?”

And since he has already started down this route of honesty, he decides he can just as well continue with it. No use in pretending, anyway, since she can probably tell anyway. “Honestly? No. I love books, I love to read, but I have never worked in any kind of store before, or had any other job than mowing my neighbors lawn the summer I turned 13. But I am a quick learner, I promise you.”

Something in what he said seems to interest her. “What type of books do you read?”

“Science, mostly.”

“Science like in science fiction?”

He shakes his head, almost laughing at the question. It’s not like he hasn’t read any science fiction books, he has, but that was not what he meant. “No, science like physics, biology, you know, about the universe and facts and stuff.”

“Really?” She seems surprised, and it’s not like it comes as a complete shock to him, he knows he doesn’t look like the typical science-y type. “Do you know we have one of the largest science sections in the city?”

He does, indeed. That is why he hadn’t tried this store before in his fruitless search for a job, fearing this particular rejection would hurt more than the others.

“Yes,” he smiles, while remembering all the afternoons he used to spend here when things started to go south at home. The science section is in the back and was the perfect hiding place for a fourteen year old boy with too much time on his hand to spend away from home. “I used to come here a lot when I was younger. You have more science books than my local library. I used to dream I was some kind of millionaire who could afford to buy all the books I wanted. Instead, I just looked at them, afraid you would get angry if I sat down and started reading one of them, writing down the title and author of the ones I wanted to take back and order it at my library instead.”

He hasn’t realized that he has been staring at his feet for the last minute or so, and when he looks back up at her, he can see her smiling back at him.

“Well, Isak. Today is your lucky day. Two of the people I hired for the summer changed their minds yesterday and are quitting by the end of this week. I was about to go through the resumes I have in my office to find replacements, but you just saved me some work. So, I repeat myself her, but how soon can you start?”

He looks at her, not entirely sure he heard her correctly.

“As soon as you want me to. I have no plans this summer, my boyfriend is working full time the next six weeks, and I don’t want to go on a vacation without him, so I was just going to spend the summer in Oslo.”

“Great! How about you come in at ten tomorrow, and I’ll have the paperwork ready for you, and will figure out a schedule and all that stuff then?”

He leaves the store, feeling like a heavy burden has been lifted off his back, and he is practically floating. His mood is better than it has been ever since the disastrous phone call to his dad. He can’t believe he got a job. And just not any job, he got a job at his favorite bookstore, and the manager seemed nice. She didn’t even flinch when he told her about having a boyfriend.

When he gets home he is surprised by Even’s shoes in the hall, although he is not supposed to be home for another hour yet.

“Baby?” he says while toeing off his shoes. “Are you home already?” But there is no reply, which is unusual. Maybe Even is in the shower, getting the smell of coffee out of his hair and clothes, he likes to do that when he gets home, saying he has enough of coffee at KB. 

But when he enters the living room he finds Even standing there, holding one of Isak’s resumes with a frown on his face. A face that is saying it all, the resume in his hand in combination with Isak in his nice clothes makes it obvious that Isak has not been out enjoying the warm summer day, eating ice cream in a park, hanging out with Jonas or the rest of the boys.

And oh, that wasn’t supposed to happen, Even shouldn’t find out about it like this, not this way.

“Isak?”, Even says with that tone in his voice that Isak hates. The tone that screams “I am disappointed in you”. The knot in his stomach turns to ice in a matter of a few seconds. Or maybe even less than that. And he knows he should speak, say something, but it feels like all the words in the entire world has left his brain, gone on a permanent vacation to somewhere warmer, someone smarter.

He is sure he must look like a total fool, his mouth opening and closing so many times it is ridiculous, but he just doesn’t know how to start, where to start. He never planned on Even finding out this way. Of course, he knew he had to tell him at some point, it wasn’t like he could all of a sudden start spending time away from the apartment, going to work without Even noticing it. But he had hoped to have everything settled, for them to sit down properly and then tell him. He wanted to be the one to own the story, own the timing, own the narrative. That is not going to happen now. How could he have been so stupid to leave his resume at home? What was he thinking? Truth is, he probably wasn’t thinking, he rarely does that early in the morning. 

“It’s not, I’m not,” he stutters, angry that this shouldn’t be this hard. And then his stomach chooses this exact moment to betray him reminding him that he hasn’t eaten anything since breakfast, of course it does. He has been too preoccupied with trying to find a job and besides, buying food isn’t really in his budget at the moment, his bank account being almost completely empty and all. “Can we eat first?” he asks, motioning for the kitchen. To Evens credit, he chooses not to say anything, instead he follows Isak into the kitchen and starts preparing food for them.

While he waits for food Isak busies himself by picking on a loose thread on the hem of his shirt, but stops himself before he ruins the shirt, or at least the hem. Last time he did that he had to get Even’s mother to help him fix it again, he is not risking that again, although she was nice about it, not making fun of him or scolding him or anything the way his mother would have done. But still, no need to make the same mistake twice.

“Ehm, I’m just going to change, don’t want to get tomato sauce on my shirt, last time it took three tries to get it off again.”

He leaves the kitchen before he can hear Even’s answer, or it’s more like he flees the kitchen. He used the shirt more of an excuse to get away, to have a little bit of time to clear his head, before The Talk.

Dinner is ready when he returns to the kitchen in an old, worn out t-shirt. Even has set the table and is patiently waiting for him, sitting by the tiny, tiny table they have in the kitchen, the one they bought at a flea market and that is barely large enough to fit two plates, so the pots and pans have to stay on the counter. 

Even keeps quiet, making small talk while they fill up their plates, pours water in the glasses and Isak can feel how the ice in his stomach is slowly melting, warmth seeping in and replacing the fear that he only now realizes has been there since he talked to his father. They finish their dinner without broaching the subject of the resume or that Isak has been hiding things from Even. He is sure Even is waiting for him to start talking. They leave the dishes on the counter, and goes into the living room, sitting down on the bed. Isak is fiddling with his fingers, and the room is eerily quiet. The only sound is the one coming from the refrigerator in the kitchen, it’s a humming sound that carries throughout the entire apartment. 

“Sooo,” he starts. “I found a job today.” 

“You did? Where? Why?” There is surprise in Even’s voice, but nothing else, no anger or malice.

“At the bookstore right next to Karl Johan, you know the one with the big science section?”

“I don’t know anything about a big science section, but I think I know which one you are talking about, yes. But why? I thought the plan was to not work this summer, we agreed didn’t we?”

He starts telling Even about the missing money and the phone call to his dad, and about his fear of losing the apartment, not being able to pay rent. When he gets to the part of all the rejections he can’t sit still anymore, he needs to move and he starts pacing the living room, there is too much energy soaring through him, with nowhere to direct it. 

It doesn’t take long for all the energy to evaporate, and he slows down and ends up slumped down on the floor, back against the wall, knees bent and held together by his arms that are also supporting his head. It’s like he is trying to make himself into a cocoon, safe. He feels it more than he sees Even sitting down next to him. Not close enough to touch, but close enough to be there, support him.

“Why do you always do this?” Even asks, his voice steady, no hint of anger of frustration. “You seem to think you have to figure everything out by yourself. And I know that’s the way you operate, and I respect that, I truly do. It is just so frustrating when you won’t let me in, and I can see that there is something troubling you. It makes me feel alone, and my guess is you feel the same way.” 

The heat coming from Even tells him that Even has moved closer, he can almost feel his touch, although it is impossible to see it, the way he has his head buried in between his knees. He doesn’t reply, not because he doesn’t want to, but because his voice is buried as well. So he waits, for better times or for Even to continue or for his courage finally to show. It’s the second part that comes through first, Even’s voice as calm as a warm summer's day. “And that is not how I want this relationship to be. I want to be there for you. And I need you to be there for me too. For that to happen we need to communicate, not bottling everything up, and not telling the other about it until everything is settled or explodes. Remember, your shit is my shit too.“

For the first time since his back hit the wall he manages to lift his head up to look directly into Even’s face. His eyes so blue and full of concern it makes his heart clench. “I’m sorry I made you angry. I didn't mean for you to feel left out.”

“Oh baby, I’m not mad at you. I am so, so proud of you. I am mad at your dad for doing this to you, I am frustrated you didn’t tell me, but no, I am not mad at you. How can I be mad at you when you did so great. You got a proper job. It’s almost like you are a real grown up person. Trapped in an 18-year old kids body.” 

That makes Isak snort out a short laugh, the first on in a long time. “I don’t feel very grown up right now. Crying like a toddler who just lost his favorite toy.”

That makes Even laugh as well, and he bumps his shoulder against Isaks. “You are definitely not a toddler. And we’ll deal with your father later. What he did is not right, he owes you more. But for now, let’s celebrate that you got a great job. I can’t believe you hit more than one hundred stores, aren’t your feet killing you?”

“They are.” He pulls out his best pout, using the sympathy card. “I could really need a foot rub right now. And a beer. A beer would probably help.”

He gets his beer, and he gets his foot rub and when Even starts moving his hands further up his legs, he for sure doesn’t complain. 

 

#### 

+1

It's the end of October and Isak is beyond exhausted. It is already dark when he is finally on his way home, the sun probably set at least an hour ago. He hates how fast they went from sun all day and almost all night to this, where it is almost dark when he leaves for school and pitch dark when he gets home, and it is still two months to go before winter solstice, thus four more months of darkness and more darkness. He knows, he looked it up online.

His feet are killing him on the way from the tram to the apartment, having first had a full day at school, and then a four-hour shift at the bookstore. It is not ideal to say the least, he is in his third year and should focus on school and grades, but money has been tight since Even started uni and had to cut down on his shifts at the coffee shop. Even’s student loan and Isak’s stipend just isn’t enough to cover their expenses, so they both need to work. And it is not bad, it really isn’t, he loves his job. The manager is great and has tried to adjust his hours to fit with school and the pay is decent enough. But it takes time, time away from homework, time away from friends and time away from Even, and he hates that, hates how he is being pulled in every direction, never being good enough in either.

It is Wednesday, meaning it is his time to make dinner, and he crosses his fingers they have something remotely edible in the apartment because there is no way he’ll have the energy to go grocery shopping on his way home. He can’t even remember if there is pasta left or if they used the last on Monday. His head is full of thoughts of homework, the biology assignment due tomorrow, the laundry that needs to be done (he has hardly any clean clothes left) and the dust bunnies in the apartment that have started grow so much that they can hardly be called bunnies anymore, they are more like elephants. They shouldn’t have skipped cleaning this weekend but at the time cuddling had seemed much more important than any form of domestic chores. It is coming back to bite him now, because not only does he need to cook, he also needs to put on a load of laundry and at least do some vacuuming. It is already seven o’clock, Even is due home from work in an hour, and if he is efficient he might be halfway done with all of it by then. But just the thought of it is enough to make his head hurt and he just wants to lie down on the bed and cry. Or sleep. Or both.

There are noises coming out of the apartment when he’s finally done climbing the four flights of stairs, and he is slightly worried they have a surprise guest or something. Both Eskild and Jonas have keys to their apartment, for security reasons only, but neither of them are likely to just show up unannounced and especially when they know no one’s at home. Well, maybe Eskild, but he hasn’t pulled that stunt since before summer, after Isak gave him a talk on what an emergency is and isn’t. He turns the key hesitantly, and carefully opens the door, not sure if he wants to see this or not. 

The first thing he notices is the music coming from the kitchen, he can hear the song is from one of Even’s cooking playlists, the one he puts on when he wants to take his time cooking, usually reserved for weekends. The second thing that hits him is the smell. It is a weird mixture of tomato sauce and the lemony smelling soap they use when they clean the apartment. It’s an interesting combination to say the least, and an unexpected one. But the thing that does it for him when he quietly takes off his shoes and hangs up his jacket is that the chaos of jackets, scarfs, mittens and hats usually taking up 80 percent of the hall is gone, replaced with jackets hanging where they should, and everything else in its place in the different baskets on the shelf, the ones Even insisted they’d buy when they moved but has never actually been used.

“You’re home!”. He hears Even before he sees him, too busy admiring how big the hallway is looking all tidy to notice Even until he is standing right in front of him in the doorway to the living room.

“Shouldn’t you be at work?” He can hear the concern in his voice, after a year with Even assessing his mood has become second nature to him, something he does without thinking. And he knows Even hates it, and he working hard trying to not let it show, trying to not automatically do it every time Even does something unexpected. Like being at home when he should be at work.

“I traded shifts with Martin. He was supposed to work on Friday, but can’t since he is going on a “boys trip”, and I know you have that thing with the guys on Friday so I asked if we could switch.” Even says it like it is no big deal, although Isak knows it is. Even hates working Fridays, it is the busiest day at work, and he is always exhausted after a Friday evening shift. 

“Besides, I kind of took your last boxer this morning, since I’d used all of mine, so I went home to put on a load of laundry to make up for it and then I decided to change the sheets as well, and when I first had started cleaning I decided to keep going. I know it’s your turn to cook, but I made lasagna for us, it should be ready in a couple of minutes.” 

Isak’s mouths starts watering at the thought of lasagna. He loves Even’s lasagna, it is nothing like the from-a-box-lasagna Eskild and he used to make when they wanted to make something good. This is one all made from scratch, with proper bechamel sauce and everything. 

He looks around the living room while Even goes to the kitchen to fix the last few things for dinner. Everything is so clean, all dust elephants gone, no more clutter on the table, clean sheets on the bed and on top of it lies to piles of clothes, all clean. All that is left for him to do is fold it and put it away. He can do that, it is the least he can do. The relief washes through him like a flood, and the only thing ruining it is the tiny thought that tells him he doesn’t deserve it. 

“Don’t even think it”, Even interrupts his thoughts, Isak hadn’t even heard him come back into the room. “I can hear you thinking a mile away. You deserve this, you know you do. This,” he lets his hand wave around the room. “This is as much my responsibility as it is yours, and I know I am shit at it for most of the time. Yeah, so we should have done this last weekend, but we didn’t. Doesn’t mean it is your job to fix it.”

“Yeah, I know. We are a team. My shit is your shit too.” He has heard that phrase so many times it comes automatically by now. “Doesn’t mean I don’t appreciate it, though.” He walks over to Even and plants a small kiss on his lips. “Thank you, I love it. I love you.” 

“I love you too, baby. And I will always have your back.”


End file.
